The Cloak
by Gray Jedi 4000
Summary: Luke's got a present! But from who? And why is there a voice in his head?


**Sorry, guys. This is kind of just a random oneshot. I read a story about Vader giving Luke a birthday present and wanted to write one of my own.**

 **Anakin: I LOVE random oneshots! Well, except for Dreams Galore... Anyway! Why don't you ever write more? Hey, that rhymes!**

 **Gray Jedi 4000: I dunno. And you should be a poet. *pats Anakin on head***

 **Luke: *walks by* Oh, hey guys. Didn't see you.**

 **Gray Jedi 4000: Hey, Luke! Come do the disclaimer!**

 **Luke: Why can't Poe do it?**

 **Anakin: I'll get him. *walks over to random stairs* POE GET DOWN HERE AND DO THE DISCLAIMER OR I'M WRECKING YOUR X-WING!**

 **Poe: *runs down stairs and does a backflip over Gray Jedi 4000, Anakin, and Luke* Gray Jedi 4000 does not own Star Wars! *sees Koboi* Or Artemis Fowl!**

 **Ahsoka: *stares* How did you** _ **do**_ **that?!**

 **Poe: Desperation is a wonderful motivator.**

 **Opal Koboi: That's MY line!**

* * *

After a very long day, Luke stumbled into his private quarters. He hadn't woken up with much energy - _any_ energy, really - and he had never gotten the chance to nap. _And_ he had a cold, to go on top of it all. Collapsing onto his bed, he closed his eyes and sighed. But before he could actually drift off -

"Ah-CHOO!" A violent sneeze tore its way out of Luke's stuffed up mouth and nose.

 _Bless you,_ said a voice in his head.

Forget sleep. Luke flew out of bed, looking for the source of the sound or something to use against it. "Who - who are you?!" The whisper came breathlessly, the voice of a man who is trying to be brave but is really scared for his sanity.

There was a chuckle on the other end. _Relax. I come in peace._

And it was true. Luke didn't sense any hostile intentions from the voice. It was just...there. He had the impression of a tall young man, in his early twenties, reclining in black robes. His eyes seemed to twinkle with mischievousness.

Alright, then. Luke slowly relaxed and breathed - in and out. He sat on the edge of his bed, still wary.

 _Who are you?_

 _I'll hold off on that. I don't want to get thrown out of your head, not when I've gotten so comfortable._

 _What's keeping me from throwing you out right now?_

 _Information._

 _Information is good, especially when it's sensitive and Imperial. Go on._

A good-natured chuckle came from the other end. _It's not sensitive, and it's only Imperial in the loosest sense of the word, but you'll still find it interesting._

 _Oh, really._

 _Really. But it's better shown than told._

 _What -_

 _Three…two…one._

The doorbell to Luke's quarters rang. He got up, wondering how in the galaxy his…visitor…had predicted something so mundane. It would have sent almost nothing in the Force. Opening the door, he saw the Rebel on delivery duty holding a package.

"Package for Luke Skywalker."

"Thanks." He took the shoebox-sized package and closed the door. Slowly, he set the box on his bed, wondering what on earth could be inside.

 _Open it,_ the voice urged.

Almost against his will, Luke's arms reached forward and untied the simple string, unfolded the brown paper, and was faced with a cardboard box. He lifted the lid, almost afraid of what was inside.

When nothing blew up and nothing started beeping, he peered into the box. Inside was a mass of black fabric. Cautiously, he lifted it out. The roughness surprised him.

Armorweave. The same fabric in Darth Vader's cape.

He pulled it out of the box, spreading it across his bed. Only then did he notice that one side was silk. When he smoothed it out, it seemed to be a hooded cloak.

 _What…_

 _It's a cloak. The armorweave absorbs weak blaster bolts._

 _Wait…Father?_

Warmth flowed from the visitor. _Hello, Son._

 _Why -_

 _You're a Skywalker, Son. The way I see it, with your inherited bad luck, you'll need a little extra protection._

 _I can't wear this! I would practically be shouting, 'Hi! I'm Darth Vader's son!'_

 _You can use the fabric to make something else, if you want. But I'd be worried if you didn't wear it at all._

Luke was surprised by the concern he felt from his father. His words were gentle - much more gentle than Luke would have thought possible - and some part of the Jedi-in-training was drawn to it. He had to remind himself that Vader wanted to turn him to the Dark Side.

 _I - I still can't bring this anywhere where anyone can see it!_

 _Jedi wore cloaks all the time, often black ones on stealth missions. You can bring it anywhere and it won't give you away._ He paused. _You know, I just realized something._

 _What?_ Luke's internal voice was filled with dread at whatever the Imperial could have found.

 _You never put the cloak on._

… _Should I have?_

 _Just try it on. You'll like it._

 _Alright…_

Luke slowly lifted up the cloak, stood up, and tied the loop around his neck. The fabric fell naturally and comfortably around his shoulders, stopping its flow a half inch above the floor. A perfect fit. He was surprised at how…nice it felt, wearing it. Almost like a warm hug.

 _I…_

 _Do you like it?_

 _Well…yea, but…_

 _Then I don't see what's wrong._

 _It's - it's a gift from the enemy. It could be booby-trapped or infected or -_

 _Don't think of it as a gift from the enemy. Think of it as a gift from your father._

Luke had no answer to that. He flopped down onto his bed, casually kicking off the box and wrapping the cloak around him. He closed his eyes, noticing again that he was tired. But he couldn't have Vader in his mind while he was sleeping…could he? The Imperial's presence was soothing, and he wasn't trying to take apart all his secrets…

Luke climbed under the blankets, and his eyes felt heavy. The cloak was still wrapped around him. His father was sending peaceful messages, murmuring to him with soft images. He was so tired…zzzzzzz…

* * *

 **Gray Jedi 4000: Well, that was weird. This was meant to be cute and fluffy, but it turned creepy. Eh. My muse turned to the Dark Side anyways. Review, please!**


End file.
